


spring cleaning

by rosemercury



Category: Original Work
Genre: Childhood Memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-04 22:11:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18821761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosemercury/pseuds/rosemercury
Summary: myrrh’s smiling more these days, but it’s not the same.





	spring cleaning

dust gathers in places where small hands would once indent the condensation on the mirror, and even smaller hands, ones that were littered with freckles, would contribute with the added imprint of angry eyebrows, usually resulting in a gasp of feigned surprise and a shrill “no!”. there’s no bathroom echo to her voice anymore. in fact, her voice isn’t there at all. neither is theirs. no longer are they the two small children whose voices were amplified into a boisterous choir by the large room. not anymore.

it gathers on the countertops too, but they never were tall enough to see above them anyway, "if a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?" or something along those lines.

she suggests that they use a stepping stool one day so they could contribute to baking. it was a bad comment to make, looking back on it. they both knew what it insinuated. they didn’t like their height to be pointed out, and that feeling only gets magnified as they grow older, but not taller. the glare of two dark eyes and insistence in their voice that “i don’t need a stool! i’m tall enough, see?!” certainly solidified that early on.

it also collects on the shelves, ones that are full of thin books. intended for young children, but the covers are so colourful, pleasing to their eye. almost as appealing as her voice as she reads the book to them and helps them practically learn to speak. they're eight, they should know this by now, right? 

she doesn't question it. this is her friend. no questions needed.

the dust also makes itself known on the picture frames, a film of dull graininess over smiles wide enough to make your cheeks hurt just from looking at them. both pairs of eyes are squinted, but the sparkle of joy can’t be contained behind their eyelids. someone should be here. someone. anyone. if only just to wipe off the dust on the countertops, on the mirror, on books and bookshelves, off the windows that once let in golden light and now look glassy, like someone's eyes when they're spacing out.

but there is no one.

what a shame, spring cleaning was always so fun...

but they’re 16 now. they left the town a few months ago and is now with a group, a dysfunctional one, yes, but they’re starting to feel safe. two tall ones, or at least taller than them, a girl and a boy. and a short one, some sort of cat person, or something… it’s confusing. 

myrrh’s smiling more these days, but it’s not the same. this group, they don’t know myrrh that much, so they can’t tell the difference. but they’re beginning to trust again, or they think so. they’re not sure how to stop thinking. do people ever stop thinking? do they even count as a person? they’re not sure if they care. there's no dust gathering here, but how can it when they never stop moving? moving makes them feel like they're constantly running. it makes them anxious. but if they stand still for too long it feels like the walls meant to comfort them will crush them.

so yeah, they guess that running away makes more sense. 

it's just not the same. maybe they don't want walls as comfort, they want something different, but they still don’t like it when anyone touches them. they don't know if they ever will. it's difficult.

they’re trying to learn not to be so mean.

well... 'trying'.

as for her, she’s with her dad, they think. her 17th birthday has probably passed, but they weren’t there to say anything. she left the town before they did, but they had a good eight years of knowing each other, that should be enough to ward off loneliness, right? myrrh thinks maybe that’s not how loneliness works. when she left, offering the idea that they could come with them, they stayed. it wasn’t their choice. 

god… why didn’t they just leave?

time. time is up for this house. nobody is cleaning the dust off their childhood memories, and it hurts for them both to remember each other. they wonder if she knows how right she was. they wonder if she forgives them.

she wonders if they’re even alive.

**Author's Note:**

> most people who read this are my friends, so u know who this is about (∪ ◡ ∪) hHEEheE


End file.
